


The Canterbury Wax Museum

by Doylebaby



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:32:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doylebaby/pseuds/Doylebaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wax museum is the ideal place to hold a Halloween party, or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

[ ](http://s21.photobucket.com/albums/b261/Doylebaby/?action=view&current=Wax_Museum3-Astrid-small2.jpg)

** The Canterbury Wax Museum  **

**Chapter 1**

Orlando stood across the street and looked up at the museum. He smiled, feeling pleased. The lightning they had placed on the front of the building gave it a sinister image making the gargoyles seem to come alive, ready to jump on the people walking below them in the street.

This year’s Halloween party was going to be exceptional. 

Working at the Canterbury Wax Museum had its benefits, being the grandson of the founder was even better. 

Orlando nodded and held up his thumbs to Craig and Dom who were looking expectantly at him from a third floor window where they could adjust the lights to his wishes. 

“Perfect,” he mouthed at them.

Orlando was about to cross the street again when a honking car horn made him jump back on the pavement again. An enormous limousine pulled up in front of the entrance to the museum and Orlando rolled his eyes, knowing exactly who was inside. 

The doors on both sides opened and Orlando watched his brother getting out of the car, a giggling blonde on each arm. Jonathan’s party had already begun. 

“Hey little brother, looking good,” Jonathan shouted at Orlando, pointing at the coloured lights. 

Orlando waved. Jon was supposed to have been helping him to get everything ready for the party but hadn’t shown up. This was the first Orlando saw of his brother today and he smirked at his brother’s outfit. Darth Vader just wasn’t Jonathan’s thing.

After Jonathan a few of their mutual friends got out of the limousine too. Johnny and Karl on one side, Eric and Hugh on Orlando’s side. Both grinned broadly at Orlando as they showed off their costumes. 

“Well what do you think?” Eric asked as he adjusted the rings on his fingers. 

Orlando bowed deeply. “My liege,” he chuckled and then walked around Eric to admire his Henry VIII costume from all sides.

“I feel slightly underdressed.” Hugh mock pouted as he tapped his top hat with his cane. 

“You look just fine, a gentleman in all ways, if not a mysterious one. Who are you supposed to be?” Orlando asked curiously. 

Hugh pointed across the street at the museum. “He’s in there somewhere as well, that’s all I’m going to say.” He winked at Orlando and pulled at Eric’s arm. “We’ll see you inside,” Hugh called out over his shoulder. 

Orlando smiled and then he turned to tap on the drivers window, with a soft buzz the window opened. “Hey Sean,” Orlando greeted the other man a little timidly. 

“Orlando.” Sean nodded gruffly.

“Did you bring a costume, Sean?” Orlando asked eyeing Sean’s chauffeur’s uniform. “Why in the world are you wearing that uniform anyway when you knew you’d have to change again?”

Sean didn’t blink but his hands tightened on the wheel. “Jonathan,” was the terse reply.

Orlando knew enough then. His arse of a brother had really wanted to make a point of Sean having to wear his uniform just because he knew Orlando fancied Sean. “I’m sorry, Sean, Jon can be a real wanker sometimes.” 

“Aye.”

Not knowing what else to say to make the situation any better, Orlando pointed to the alley next to the museum. “You can park the limo in my spot and I’ll see you inside.”

The window closed without another word from Sean and Orlando sighed. Jonathan had managed to spoil his night before it even started. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked across the street to the entrance of the museum.

A lot of their friends had already arrived and Orlando still hadn’t changed into his costume but he decided not to bother anymore and went looking for his friends.

“Hey Orlando!” Johnny waved at him from across the room. Part of the museum was accessible to their friends and Johnny was admiring Sherlock Holmes. When Orlando reached him he pushed him a drink in his hands. “Don’t let Jonathan get to you, mate,” he whispered then raised his voice, “Do you think ‘ole’ Sherlock here would have been able to expose Sweeney?”

Orlando sipped from his drink and nodded, gesturing at Johnny’s costume. “You bet, you wouldn’t have stood a chance.” He grinned, grateful for Johnny’s words. Jon could be such an arse sometimes. 

Right now for instance Jonathan was standing at the entrance, accepting the compliments for Orlando, Dom and Craig’s hard work. He raised his glass at Orlando, a triumphant grin on his face.

Orlando turned away with a grunt. He should find Dom and Craig so they could accept the well deserved compliments but he was afraid they were shagging in front of the statue of the prime minister and decided against it. They would find him when they were ready. 

 

Keeping an eye on the guests that were arriving, Orlando noticed a handsome man entering the building, all dressed in black with a large cape around his shoulders, the lining a bright red. He wore a hat and stood looking around before he walked further inside.

Jonathan approached the man with a charming smile when he suddenly seemed to freeze in his tracks. Orlando frowned. There wasn’t much that could stop Jon if he set his sights on someone, male or female.

Orlando’s gasp was audible however when the man took off his hat and put his gloves in them. Blond hair shimmered golden in the spotlights, then a fiery red as the lights changed colour and when he lifted his head there was also a reddish glow to the well known green eyes. 

“Sean,” he breathed. 

“Looks awesome, doesn’t he?” A voice behind him chuckled, Orlando whirled round and looked accusingly at Eric and Hugh.

“Did you two…?” he started.

Eric casually flicked a speck of dust from his velvet jacket. “Let’s just say we did our best to convince him to attend the party in costume, despite someone trying to spoil the mood.”

Orlando smiled at his friends, thankful for their intervention. He turned and watched Sean walk nonchalantly through the room, many admiringly looks thrown in his direction. 

“Why don’t you go over to him?” Hugh nudged him. “He may look all suave and self-assured, but underneath it all he’s really a bit of a shy guy.”

Orlando’s eyes widened slightly. “I can’t do that, I’m sure he’s had quite enough of the Bloom brothers for one day.”

Johnny snorted. “Well one of them anyway. Go on mate, knowing Sean he’d be happy to see a familiar face.” He made shooing motions with his hands, which made Eric and Hugh crack up completely.

Rolling his eyes, Orlando hesitantly set foot in Sean’s direction, when a waiter passed by however he lifted a drink from the tray the man was carrying, needing just a little Dutch courage.

Then someone grabbed his arm, preventing him from moving towards Sean. “You’re a fool, you know that don’t you? He only wants you for our money Lan and nothing else. Look at him, they’re throwing themselves at him but his eyes are following you everywhere because you’ve got pound signs written all over you,” Jonathan hissed in Orlando’s ear.

Orlando squirmed out of Jon’s grip and looked with contempt at his brother. “Not everyone is a money hungry wolf Jon, some people have other priorities on their mind.” He left his brother standing in the middle of the room, but Jonathan had to have the last word.

“Like love?” he drawled. 

Orlando froze and took a deep breath and turned back to his brother. “Yes.” Then he walked determinedly in Sean’s direction. The smile on the other man’s face when he spotted Orlando made the young man feel warm inside. 

“Sean. I’m glad you’re here, you look amazing,” he told the other man. “I was afraid you might not want to… you know, be anywhere near either of us after what happened,” Orlando added quietly.

Sean grinned. “You’re not Jon, Orlando and I’m here because of you, I uh…” now Sean seemed a little uncomfortable. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.” 

Feeling a lot more confident all of a sudden, Orlando grabbed Sean’s hand. “You could never disappoint me, now go on and disappoint everyone else by dancing with me.” He grinned, pulling Sean in the direction of the dance floor. 

Laughing, Sean threw his hat on a nearby table and let himself be dragged along, the pleasure on his face obvious when Orlando snuggled close in his arms.

Orlando looked over his shoulder at his friends. Hugh and Eric were waving and winking at him. He didn’t see Johnny, but Johnny would know soon enough of his success. 

“They’re good friends,” Sean’s voice murmured in his ear and he pulled Orlando closer, kissing and nibbling on the young man’s neck.

“Hmm, they are,” Orlando whispered closing his eyes, this felt so good. The music kept on playing and Sean and Orlando carried on dancing. 

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Sean asked amused as they swayed gently to the music.

Orlando opened his eyes and smiled at the other man. “I love dancing,” he admitted and then he licked his lips. “I’m a little thirsty now though.”

Sean immediately steered them in the direction of the bar. “Then by all means lets get you a drink.”

Thirstily Orlando drank his juice, his eyes scanning the room. He did see Karl talking to Hugh and Jon showing off his dancing skills with a busty blonde. Johnny and now Eric were missing. Orlando grinned. They were probably trying to hold each other up in a corner somewhere.

“Want to dance some more, my pretty?” Sean asked him, his fingertips stroking the side of Orlando’s neck.

Orlando tilted his head to enjoy the caress. “Hmm, yeah, Sean, dance with me.” He didn’t know how long they danced, but Orlando had never felt better than right at this moment in Sean’s arms. 

“I think I love you,” he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his head on Sean’s shoulder, unaware that Sean had heard his words. 

Sean’s arms tightened around him, a strange expression on his face. “I wonder…” he murmured.

The music became a little louder and Orlando was shocked to discover he was sitting slumped in a chair. Where was Sean? He didn’t see the blond anywhere and when he looked for any of the others he didn’t see them either. 

“What… they’ve all gone for a peeing contest?” he muttered. “I want to join in too.” He felt a little sleepy and pushed himself to his feet. He wondered why he felt so drowsy and decided he needed a splash of water in his face. 

The restrooms were deserted, no one holding any kind of contest there and Orlando refreshed himself using plenty of water. He checked his face in the mirror. His pupils were dilated and his lips swollen. Orlando smiled dreamily. Sean definitely was an excellent kisser. 

Then he frowned. Where _was_ Sean?

Orlando left the restroom, determined to find his friends.

Back in the entrance hall he was suddenly grabbed from behind and a well known voice said, “Beam me up, Scotty, I’ve got him.”

Of course nothing happened and Orlando started to giggle. “It seems you’ve got a faulty device, doctor,” he said with a broad grin as he turned in Karl’s arms who was wearing a tight Starfleet uniform. 

With a pout and twinkling eyes, Karl nodded and was about to reply when a beeper went off. He let go of Orlando and rolled his eyes. “I wish that device would be faulty for just one night,” he sighed as he reached in his pocket. “Got to go, duty calls.” He looked down at himself. “No time to change I’m afraid.”

“Well at least they know you’re a doctor,” Orlando pointed out. 

“Yeah, right, but not which one,” Karl muttered.

Orlando patted his arm. “Everyone knows you’re not Nasir or Bashir or whatever the guy’s name was. Not exotic enough, man.”

Karl rolled his eyes and a large grin appeared on his face. “Thanks mate. Well I’m off. Have fun and don’t turn into a pumpkin.”

Orlando laughed. “Not pretty enough for that!” He called after Karl.

 

He looked around the room and noticed his friends were still missing. Maybe they had gotten bored and were taking a tour around the museum. It wasn’t really open to the public but all of them had been there with Orlando on several occasions and knew the museum just as well as he did. 

Orlando rounded the corner to the dimly lit section where some of Britain’s most famous villains were on display and came to an abrupt halt. 

“What on earth are _you_ doing here?” He laughed a little nervously, because even at Halloween wax statues were unlikely to start speaking all of a sudden. 

He walked around the statue of Van Helsing who looked to be ready to fire his crossbow at someone or something. More importantly, the statue wasn’t in its usual place…

Orlando peered into the darkest corner of the room, certain that his friends were hiding there and pulling his leg. “Alright you guys,” he muttered, “you had me going there for a bit, but I’m on to you lot now.”

Silence was his only answer.

“Guys? Hugh? Johnny?”

Again there was no answer.

Icy fingers suddenly walked over Orlando’s spine as the temperature seemed to drop and he shivered. He looked in the direction of the entrance hall where the party was still going strong, oddly enough there was no light, no sound… Orlando frowned, he’d been able to hear the band only minutes before.

What was going on? And where were his friends?

Orlando rounded the next corner a little cautiously, taking him to the creepy section of the museum, **Crime Scenes** , where the realistic scenes of some gruesome crimes were displayed. 

Like Sweeney Todd and his barber chair.

Orlando gasped when his eyes fell on the statue of Sweeney Todd. It was… it looked like…

“Johnny?” Orlando whispered. “Is that you?” He waved a hand in front of Johnny’s… no Sweeney Todd’s face. The statue didn’t move, Johnny didn’t suddenly smile and yell, “Got ya, mate!”

Suddenly the world started to whirl around Orlando and his vision blurred. He opened his mouth to call for help but it was too late…

### 

Orlando pushed the door to the pastry shop open. He could see Mrs Lovett out in the back taking fresh pies out of the oven, her grey streaked hair standing on end while she wiped her brow.

“I’ll be with you in a tick, dearie” she called over her shoulder. 

Orlando watched as she put more pies in the oven and he sniffed, they smelt very good. It made him realise it had been days since he’d had a proper meal. 

The woman closed the oven door and walked to the front of the shop, a charming smile on her face. The smile fell when she saw Orlando. “Oh it’s you Orlando, what do you want boy?”

Orlando shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “Mum sent me, Mrs Lovett. I’ve… I’ve got two farthing, is that enough for a bag of crumbs please?”

Mrs Lovett’s mouth formed a thin line and Orlando shoulders slumped. He just knew she was going to say no. 

Suddenly the shop keeper’s face brightened. “As it happens, I’ve just got some fresh baked pies… Give me your two farthing.” She held out her hand and Orlando hesitantly handed his precious coins to her.

Mrs Lovett turned and walked towards the back of the shop where the freshly baked pies were steaming. She grabbed some paper from a shelf and carefully wrapped a hot pie in it.

Orlando followed everything with wide eyes. Was she really going to give him a whole pie for two farthing?

Apparently she was, because Mrs Lovett came back again a smile pasted on her face and put the pie on the counter in front of Orlando. “There you go, luv. I’m sure your mum and brother will enjoy it.”

“B-but…” Orlando stuttered. “I don’t have enough money for a whole pie, Mrs Lovett.”

The woman giggled and walked around the counter. “Don’t worry luv, I know just the way to settle that.” She reached up and stroked his chin.

Orlando took a stumbling step backwards when he felt her touch. “I-I don’t… Mrs Lovett, please, I can’t…”

When she saw Orlando’s terrified face she started to cackle. “Silly boy, that’s not what I meant, even though you’re pretty and all.” She shook her head and another cackle escaped her mouth before she pulled herself together. “Now listen to me good, boy, because tomorrow I want you to go to Mr Todd for a shave and a haircut. Just tell him I send you and all will be settled then.”

Orlando nodded at the strange order, but decided that everything would be alright as long as he could leave the shop without that woman touching him again. He hastily grabbed the pie from the counter and gave Mrs Lovett a tentative smile before leaving the shop in a hurry.

 

Mrs Lovett returned to her kitchen and grabbed the meat cleaver. Work was calling; fresh filling for her pies had just been delivered and needed to be prepared.

### 

It was still early when Orlando knocked on the front door of the barber shop.

“Who is it?” A voice shouted from above.

Orlando pushed the door open a little further and looked up the stairs, seeing a shadow move at the top. “My name is Orlando. Mrs Lovett sends me, to settle for the pie?”

There was a thump and a curse then the voice shouted again, “you’d better come up then and I’ll see what I can do.” 

A little hesitantly Orlando took the stairs. He had seen Mr Todd in town a few times and he seemed a little weird.

While climbing the stairs Orlando still wondered how a shave and a haircut would settle for the pie. Maybe Mrs Lovett was one of those people who collected human hair and made wigs for those who were fortunate enough to be able to afford them. 

Someone was waiting for him at the top of the stairs and coming into the light Orlando looked up at a man with long, wild dark hair. One grey lock quite remarkable between all the black.

The man smiled at him and Orlando shivered slightly as an inexplicable feeling of unease grabbed him.

“I’m Sweeney Todd,” the man introduced himself. “I can see why Mrs Lovett sent you over young man.” He held out his arm for Orlando to precede him. Orlando walked past the barber towards the barber’s chair on slightly wobbly legs.

As soon as he sat down the chair was tilted backwards and long fingers carded through Orlando’s curls. “Beautiful hair,” the barber breathed. “So soft and…” his hands slid lower almost caressing the skin of Orlando’s throat. “…silky.”

Another shiver went through Orlando at the words of the barber. He relaxed somewhat at the faint snipping sound of the scissors and with the sun shining in through the high window his nerves were soothed into a bit of a doze. 

Orlando became wide awake again as he felt the shaving brush tickle his skin as Sweeney Todd applied a generous amount of soap.

“Startled ye, did I?” The man chuckled and soapy suds splattered around. “No need, boy, you’ll be as smooth as a baby’s bottom in a minute or two.”

Sweeney Todd turned his back on Orlando as he rummaged around in a drawer, mumbling to himself. He turned back holding a razor which he folded open with care.

Standing close to the window the barber held up the razor and Orlando watched as it sparkled in the sunlight before it suddenly moved through the air with lightning speed…

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Orlando opened his eyes and blinked confused. He was sitting on the floor, feeling a little cold and stiff. He rubbed his arms and looked at his surroundings.

He appeared to be in the museum, the **Crime Scenes** section, but why was he there?

Orlando frowned, trying to remember what he had been doing. Something to do with Johnny? 

Then he remembered. He had been looking for his friends because they were missing from the party. He hadn’t found them, but he did find a Sweeney Todd who looked remarkably like Johnny…

Pushing himself to his feet, Orlando shivered. Something strange was going on in the museum tonight. Then he snorted over his own thoughts. “Mate you’re losing it. It’s Halloween and you’re seeing ghosts or...” and his voice got louder, “your so called friends are trying to scare you, but it’s not going to work!”

With a grin he moved on, determined to get through the maze of scenes and find his friends who were obviously checking to see whether they were successful in scaring the shit out of him.

Orlando stopped abruptly as he came upon the next scene. Beside the kneeling Anne Boleyn and the figure of the executioner stood King Henry VIII, who shouldn’t be there at all, but was it really the King, or was it…

“Eric?”

 

At that moment a breeze of cold air surrounded Orlando…

### 

… and the sound of crows echoed loudly in the courtyard.

The beheading of Anne Boleyn was imminent and Orlando looked up at the window, seeing the silhouette of Henry there looking down on them.

Orlando looked away. He didn’t want to be here, but the King had ordered the entire household to watch the execution of the Queen as an example.

His eyes sought and found a spot on the wall just below the window where he knew the King was still watching and he waited until the murmurs of the crowd quieted down. Orlando’s eyes travelled to the window again as the axe fell…

The King was on his way to the woman who would be his new wife.

### 

“Bring me the new velvet robe, the purple one,” Henry ordered his valet and Orlando hurried to the wardrobe to pull out the heavy garment.

He helped the King into his robe and smoothed the velvet until it was looking just right. 

“What do you think, Orlando, do you think Mistress Jane will like this?”

Personally Orlando thought Mistress Seymour was a mousy woman who would rather walk behind the tapestries then in front of them, but he knew he would sign his death warrant if he would say that to the King. 

“Milord is very handsome, Mistress Seymour will be honoured to accompany you.” Orlando thought he was very tactful in expressing himself. He dropped to his knees to adjust the King’s stockings.

A large hand lifted his chin. “Do I hear envy in your voice, Lando?” The King’s voice was amused but there was a harsh edge to it. 

Orlando blinked rapidly then smiled tentatively. “Mistress Seymour is beautiful, Milord.” He hoped that would be answer enough for the King. 

For a long time the King did not reply then he nodded. “Of course.”

Orlando felt as if he had failed a test.

 

Outside, feet rapidly moved away from the King’s chambers after it had become obvious the conversation had come to an end.

### 

The man had been following Orlando around for a couple days. He was handsome this Lord Bradley of Somerset, maybe a little vain, but he also had a sense of humour. He had made Orlando giggle on more than one occasion.

Now Lord Bradley had cornered Orlando in the stables after he had forgotten the King’s gloves and had to fetch them while the King was waiting. 

The King was not pleased by Orlando’s lack of attention.

Orlando couldn’t care less, kissing Lord Bradley felt very good. The King had Mistress Seymour in his bed, Orlando needed someone too.

### 

The door was thrown open forcefully and an angry roar reverberated through the bedchamber.

Orlando pulled the sheets over his naked body as Lord Bradley hastily pulled on a robe and left. The wrath of King Henry VIII was more than he could face.

“So it _is_ true!” The King thundered.

Orlando lifted his chin defiantly. “I have done nothing wrong, Milord.”

Behind Henry, Mistress Seymour slipped into the room. “Lord Bradley was supposed to marry my younger sister Eleanor. That is not going to happen now because of your behaviour.”

Orlando looked at the King and paled. “Milord, I-”

The King made a slicing motion with his hand. “I did not want to believe what Mistress Seymour told me, but here is all the evidence I need. You were deliberately seducing Lord Bradley, trying to discredit Mistress Eleanor and by association my future wife Mistress Jane.”

Orlando’s eyes widened as he realised how they had managed to conspire against him. His eyes flew to Mistress Seymour, still standing slightly behind the King, and saw her eyes flash triumphantly.

###

Orlando looked up at the window where he knew King Henry VIII was watching. He also knew no mercy was forthcoming.

He swallowed and knelt as the priest murmured his prayers and Orlando closed his eyes, not wanting to see the crowd staring at him. 

The axe was lifted and the crows scattered at the sudden movement.

### 

With a gasp Orlando returned to reality and he stumbled backwards away from the scaffolding where right now Anne Boleyn was still waiting for her execution. Orlando’s eyes flew up, searching the wall behind her, but there was no window and there was no King Henry VIII watching.

There was also no statue of Eric dressed as King Henry VIII anywhere and Orlando looked around a little desperately.

Was he seeing things?

“Guys? I admit it, you’ve scared the fuck out of me, you can come out now.” His voice was hoarse and shaking the tiniest bit. 

He waited, but nothing happened. Nobody jumped out of the darkest corner and there was no laughter at how they had been able to fool him. 

Orlando pressed his lips together. He would continue this silly charade and deal with his so called friends later. 

After a last look at the wall where only moments ago King Henry VIII had watched his execution, Orlando stalked away. 

He knew exactly which scene would be next and therefore he was prepared for the sinister sight of the gloomy alley and the shadow of a man in its darkest corner, bent over a body lying on the cobble stones. 

Orlando stepped closer and stiffened when he could see the man’s face more clearly, because for some reason he had expected to see someone other then Hugh. 

Long misty tendrils were reaching out at him and Orlando tried to evade them… it was inevitable however that they would get to him.

### 

Orlando coughed and shivered and pulled the worn thin coat tighter around his slim frame as he walked through the foggy, dimly lit streets. His breath was making little clouds in the cold night air and he longed for the warmth of a friendly fire.

He could just slip inside The Frying Pan for a while, it would be busy around this time and maybe Alfie wouldn’t notice if he sat quietly in a corner of the pub and didn’t order anything.

Orlando increased his pace, the prospect of being warm for only a little while calling to him.

Rounding the corner into Thrawl Street Orlando stumbled and fell against the wall as a tall, smartly dressed man, wearing a hat and cape bumped into him with great force. 

“Awfully sorry,” an educated voice said.

Orlando was helped to his feet and his eyes were drawn to the cane in the man’s hand. The handle was shaped like the head of a lion with a glimmering red stone in place of the eye. 

The man resumed his path with great haste as soon as Orlando was back on his feet.

Dusting himself off a little Orlando muttered something about posh folk thinking the street belonged to them. He looked after the man who glanced briefly in Orlando’s direction before he climbed in a carriage which sped off as soon as the door closed.

 

The Frying Pan was indeed very lively at the late hour and Orlando slipped inside behind two burly dock workers and made for a shadowy corner. Huddled against a few sacks he squirmed until he was comfortable, making sure the landlord wouldn’t spot him. 

Orlando watched the women selling themselves for a few farthing, a meal or a drink. 

Suddenly the door was pushed open and a woman screamed, “Polly, she’s been murdered!” 

Half the punters were too drunk to understand, the other half not interested as long as it wasn’t someone they knew.

Orlando blinked and shifted. Murder was not that uncommon in White Chapel but he couldn’t help feeling slightly uneasy.

When the details of Polly Nichols murder were revealed the next day Orlando’s unease grew, but as with many things was also forgotten soon as food and a place to sleep were more important.

### 

A week later Orlando wasn’t any better off. He’d managed to get some work as a day labourer, but his cough had increased and his slender frame wasn’t strong enough to carry a heavy burden so after two days he was told not to come back.

He stumbled along the streets, desperate for warmth and something to eat. His eyes were drawn to a fancy carriage riding through the street, a gloved hand held the top of the door, next to it a lion’s head peeked over the top. 

It was pure coincidence that he saw Annie Chapman get into the same carriage later that night.

### 

Orlando’s health deteriorated over the next few weeks. He had tried to get work in the Jewish quarter as a delivery boy, but he had no luck.

It was getting dark and Orlando needed a place to sleep. He also needed money for food and a drink would maybe soothe his cough. He shuffled past the police station just as Long Liz was released from another drunken night in the cell and he watched her walk away on unsteady legs.

Orlando crossed the road on his way to the Ten Bells when a shout and the rattling of wheels shook him out of his thoughts and he jumped back just in time for a carriage to pass him. Dark eyes stared intently at him through the window and Orlando frowned as they seemed familiar, but he just couldn’t remember. 

The carriage disappeared down the same road as Long Liz, who wasn’t seen alive again.

 

Later that same night Orlando was thrown out of The Frying Pan, where Alfie was sick of him occupying a warm spot and not spending any coins. 

Shakily Orlando got up, when a strong hand assisted him.

“You seem to make a habit of falling at my feet,” an amused voice said. 

Even before Orlando saw the man’s face, a cane with the head of a lion appeared in his line of vision. “Thanks,” he muttered embarrassed. 

“Why don’t you let me take you home?” At a gesture of the man’s hand a carriage appeared beside them. The two large, black stallions stomped their feet impatiently. 

Orlando shook his head. “I don’t… you can’t… I have no…” How could he tell this fancy dressed gent that he had no home to go to.

“I understand, just tell me where to drop you off, no need to walk in the cold and the dark.” The man smiled at Orlando and guided him into the carriage. 

Sinking down on the bench, Orlando looked at the other man with large eyes. “Why are you being so kind?” he asked bemused and started to cough again. 

The man tapped with his cane against the roof of the carriage and it started to move. “What is your name?” He asked as he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a flask which he offered to Orlando.

“Orlando, Orlando Bloom,” Orlando replied as he accepted the flask and took a sip from it. He drank more as the man encouraged him to do so. 

“Well Orlando Bloom, all I want to do is to help you.” The man looked out of the window and then back at Orlando, still a smile on his face. “You should be taken care of.” 

Orlando blinked. The fog seemed to have thickened and drifted into the carriage as well, blurring his vision and he didn’t quite understand it. He felt drowsy and the smiling face of his friendly host was dancing in front of his eyes. 

The flask fell from his suddenly powerless fingers and he was pushed down on the seat of the carriage.

A weight pressed on him as a voice whispered in his ear. “You have seen too much, Orlando Bloom, so you will _have_ to be taken care of.”

On that night Orlando Bloom disappeared and was never seen in White Chapel again.

###

“Orlando!”

Fingers flicked in front of his face as Orlando opened his eyes, looking into the worried brown ones of Hugh. “What happened?” Orlando asked confused.

Hugh took him by the arm and led him to a chair. He pushed Orlando down on it and muttered, “you tell me. I found you standing there with your eyes closed, pale as can be and I couldn’t seem to wake you.” Hugh knelt down next to the chair. “Orlando? Did you take anything? Did Jonathan give you any of his so called party candy?”

“What? No!” Orlando denied angrily. “I don’t know what happened, maybe I blacked out for a bit, but I haven’t taken anything and neither did I drink too much. I know you guys have been playing pranks on me all night though! First your disappearing act, then trying to scare me with those wax statues moving around…”

Orlando broke off as he noticed the strange look Hugh was giving him.

“We’ve been in the entrance hall all evening, Orlando. We were missing you all of a sudden and Jon said you probably were doing your rounds. Sean and I decided to look for you and I found you just now. I don’t know anything about any pranks.”

Orlando shook his head in denial. It couldn’t be… it had to be his friends… “I don’t believe you,” he whispered as he started to shake. 

The concern on Hugh’s face was evident. “I’m going to get Sean, maybe you will believe him Orlando. We wouldn’t do anything to scare you like that. Just sit here and try to stay calm.” Hugh walked away quickly to find Sean.

“Hugh! No! Don’t leave me…” Orlando buried his face in his hands when Hugh didn’t hear him. “…alone.” 

The events of the night had shaking him up more than Orlando cared to admit even to himself.

_…try to stay calm…_

How could he stay calm with all these strange things happening to him? They were unsettling and… Orlando clenched his fists. He still didn’t believe that his friends had nothing to do with it.

Could it be Jon then?

Orlando dismissed that idea almost immediately. Jon didn’t have the imagination to come up with something as inventive as this, besides… it didn’t explain the strange experiences he had just gone through. 

 

Orlando slowly stood, his legs were a little unsteady but he could stand on them and he was going to leave this place, he had quite enough of the museum for one day.

“Where are you going my lovely?” A voice asked from somewhere in the dark.

With a sigh of annoyance Orlando turned round, not in the mood for anymore teasing or weird hallucinations. His face brightened however when he saw who it was. “Sean!” Orlando was so relieved to see Sean that he threw himself in the other man’s arms without hesitation.

Sean chuckled. “Now that is what I call a warm welcome!” His arms tightened around Orlando, holding him against his solid frame.

“It’s not been fun, Sean, I don’t know how much Hugh told you?” Orlando mumbled against the side of Sean’s neck. 

Sean stroked Orlando’s curls. The touch was soothing to Orlando’s frazzled nerves and he sagged against Sean as the tension slowly started to leave his body. 

“What did Hugh tell you?” He asked again with closed eyes, enjoying being held safe and secure.

There was no answer and Orlando lifted his head to look at Sean. “Is something wrong, Sean?” He asked a little confused by Sean’s silence. 

Sean shook his head. “Come,” was all he said and he steered Orlando around the corner, although Orlando blanked on the scene that would be next.

He looked sideways at the other man and he suddenly noticed something. “Are you alright, Sean? You are looking really pale. You’re not feeling ill are you?” 

Sean turned his head and smiled at Orlando and the young man couldn’t suppress a shudder at the strange look in the other man’s eyes. “It’s time for some nourishment,” Sean explained cryptically as he stopped in front of the blood red velvet curtains, shielding the next scene from the public eye. 

Sean pulled on a curtain cord and the heavy drapes opened, showing a large four poster bed with lots of pillows on it. 

There were no wax statues and Orlando couldn’t remember ever having seen this set up. Orlando looked puzzled. “I don’t recall this scene, what is it and where are the characters?”

“The characters are right… here.” 

Orlando felt a little push and stumbled into the room… suddenly it didn’t look like a staged scene in the museum anymore.

“Sean?” Fear was slowly creeping into Orlando and he turned to the other man. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

The blond was right behind him and Orlando took a startled step back until one of the posts of the bed dug in his back and stopped him from retreating further. He watched wide eyed as Sean lifted a hand and brushed the side of his face, then lower, caressing his throat. 

“Oh yes, silky,” he mumbled and Orlando wished he could remember who else had said that to him only a short while ago. 

“Seductive,” Sean continued, his thumb softly touching the pulse point in Orlando’s neck. The memory of a large hand adorned with rings stroking his chin flashed through Orlando’s mind.

“No Sean, please,” Orlando whispered very frightened now. He had suffered horribly through the hands of his friends all night… had they been his friends? And would he now endure more suffering through the hands of the man he loved? 

Sean lifted Orlando’s chin tenderly and kissed him, his tongue pushed inside Orlando’s mouth and searched for that delicious taste while his thumb kept stroking the side of Orlando’s throat.

Clutching at Sean’s shoulder, Orlando wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the kiss and forget everything that had happened. 

Sean’s mouth left his and his lips followed a path from Orlando’s temple down to his ear and Orlando moaned at the sensual sensations the touches gave him. One of Sean’s arms went around his waist, holding Orlando tight while his lips travelled lower to the side of Orlando’s throat.

“Sweet and intoxicating,” he mumbled before opening his mouth wider.

Orlando felt just the tiniest of sting as his skin was pierced and Sean’s mouth latched on to his throat.

When everything became hazy he just let himself drift off, knowing there was really nothing he could do…

### 

Orlando yawned and opened his eyes. Arms were holding him tightly and there was a warm weight against his back and he smiled.

Sean.

He looked around the bedroom which he recognised as being Sean’s place above the garage and he sighed happily. This was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Morning,” a gruff voice behind him said.

Orlando wiggled around until he could look at Sean and smiled brightly. “Hi, good morning.”

“How are you feeling?” Sean asked and he looked a little worried. 

Orlando wrinkled his forehead. “I’m fine, I certainly don’t feel hung over or anything. There is something about last night though…”

Sean kissed him on the lips and a finger smoothed the frown on Orlando’s forehead. “It appeared you experienced quite a bit of excitement last night. According to what you told Hugh.” 

Snuggling closer against Sean’s chest, Orlando squeezed his eyes closed. “It was scary, Sean, I’m not sure whether I was dreaming or hallucinating. I was killed four times last night by historical figures that had taken the faces of my friends. Not something I want to remember.”

Sean’s hand stroked his back soothingly. “I know, love, but you’re here with me now.”

“Yes,” Orlando mumbled, content. “Thank heavens none of it was real and that I’m safe in your arms.” He looked up at Sean with a smile.

Sean looked down at him so their eyes met and a sudden red glow overtook the green.

“Are you certain of that?”

The End 


End file.
